


An Unexpected Alpha

by BrokenKestral



Series: Wolves at the Cair [2]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types, Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Gen, Pack Bonding, Wolves, patience - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:42:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29978931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrokenKestral/pseuds/BrokenKestral
Summary: "Throw me to the wolves, and I will return leading the pack." Started by this prompt from Adventures in Narnia, and then it just... grew.
Series: Wolves at the Cair [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2205081
Kudos: 4





	1. Becoming An Alpha

**Author's Note:**

> You know, the more battle scenes I try to write, the more I approve of Lewis skipping most of them. Peter and the Wolf is a confusion of teeth and heat and blood; the girls mean we miss the last battle; even Eustace and the Prince attacking the serpent has three blows at once and then just hacking. 
> 
> But then again, The Last Battle at the stable… bother.
> 
> I can’t really write battles. Here’s me trying anyway. 

Another clawed paw screeched along my armoured arm. I did not have time to wince. I swiped, curving up, and the Wolf backed up, replaced by two more of his pack. Their eyes glittered as they crouched. 

I spun, sword out. It whirled at the Wolf creeping up behind me, forcing him back; the two crouched nearest sprang back as well. I took a breath, panting.

Fourteen. Fourteen Wolves running wild in the West of Narnia. Three of them lunged again.

Duck. Fur and heat, a body hitting my legs; roll away! I knew this, felt this; this had been my first battle. My sword stabbed through the leg of one Wolf, and a howl split the air. The Wolves backed away again.

They hunted like normal wolves, fed on dumb and Talking beasts alike; I did not understand why they did not all attack at once. I would have thought they were normal Wolves, except—  
“Puny High King.” 

Except for that. One of them, the largest, with grey along his mouth and nose, sneered comments and urged the younger Wolves forward. 

“He is one! No pack! _We_ are a pack! Kill him! Kill the weak!”

A growl rose up from the Wolves, and five of the youngest—I had seen Ren’s new pups, and they had the large feet above the smallest bodies, as did these five, they were very young—began to circle me, slinking a little closer with each circle. 

They did not pounce yet. I swung my shield from off my back, feeling the weight of it settle on my arm. With it in place, I tightened my grip on Rhindon. 

“Attack!” the jeerer commanded. Five Wolves sprang. I crouched, shield overhead, a second before the first furred body hit. It slid off the shield, I could feel the weight shifting. The next four did not, as heavy as Oreius piling himself on it during training. I strained. I had to hold it up! I took my sword and thrust up; desperate to get some of that weight off. A Wolf fell, a fourth of the weight gone. One of the others whined, grabbing its ruff in their mouth and dragging it away; the other two slid off my shield. They were young.

They crouched. 

But none of their fellows came forward to help them, and they didn’t pounce. Panting, my arm screaming under the shield even with the weight gone, I looked around. 

Two of the Wolves were wounded; two others were licking those wounds. The rest stood in the darkness under the trees, their eyes shining but their mouths silent. 

“ _He hurt our pack!_ ” the Wolf screamed as none of the rest moved forward. 

Right. At least his voice made him easy to find.

There, rocking back and forth, back and forth, claws digging in the dirt. Setting my shield again, I rushed forward, pushing the two Wolves over as I ran past. Reaching him, I swung, sword arching through the air and towards his neck.

He dodged, instantly turning with snapping teeth, only to meet my shield. A frustrated growl poured through his teeth, and he reached with one long paw, around the shield; I stepped back and hit a tree. Pushing myself off it to leap forward, I brought my word up and rammed it through his body. He fell with a whimper. I pulled it out, whirled, and set myself to see if any were coming closer.

_They all were_. Killing the leader had done what his words could not, apparently. “Aslan, be my help.” 

They slowed as they got closer. Perhaps they’d attack in pairs again; if I could hold on, I might have a chance.

Four, five, six, seven, eight, _nine_ of them came from the front. But slowly, and crawling with their bellies on the grass. They—that didn’t look like Wolves attacking.

“New pack leader,” one whispered. He was the closest, and one of the youngest ones. He bared his neck submissively. “I yield.”

“I yield,” “I yield,” came the whispers from all the nine, and from behind it was echoed by the two wounded Wolves and the ones licking them. 

I did not sheath my sword. If they were Fell—and the leader clearly had been—this could be a trick. “Why do you yield?”

“You killed the leader. You are the leader now. I yield.” The Wolf whimpered and dug itself further into the ground. “Sorry. Sorry for speaking.”

“You’re Talking Animals,” I responded, still warily glancing at each of them in turn. “Why shouldn’t you speak?”

A whimper ran through the entire pack, from behind and in front of me. “Only the Leader speaks,” came the chorus. 

I lowered my sword a bit, resting it on the ground. My arms _ached_. “Why?”

“We may not speak,” “We may not speak.” 

I looked at them, cowering—most of them, perhaps all of them, too young to have known the Witch’s winter. Except the one I’d killed. 

Why wouldn’t he let them speak?

A memory came to me, a Faun teaching a group of kits and pups at the Cair, and the solemn warning he gave. “If you do not use the brain and heart Aslan gave you, you will, in the end, become a dumb animal again. So Aslan warned, and so it will be.” My stomach turned. The way they attacked—as like normal Wolves as could be done—and the way they were taught not to speak—had the old Wolf been _trying_ to turn them? To create a pack to savage us with no conscience, no heart, and only his intelligence?

“In _my_ pack, all are allowed to speak,” I said, and if my tone was grim, I think I can be forgiven. “Stand up.”

As wary as I was, they stood, shrinking back, and I felt my heart wince at their wariness. The last pack leader had been the opposite of all a leader should be.

I… was a pack leader now. 

Oh _no_. 

I longed for Ren in that moment, her mothering ways, her common sense, and patience. 

“Right, the pack is now moving.” I waited, just to see if there were any hinted objections, a whine, a growl. Anything.

Nothing. He really had ruled ruthlessly. 

“The rest of you are going first; I’ll bring up the rear. You two, go help the others with the ones that are hurt.”

They obeyed instantly. Well… I have to admit that was nice. They weren’t like my siblings at all. 

A low growl brought my attention forward, and the Wolf who growled sank to the ground again. He opened his mouth and let his tongue hang out, looking at me hopefully.

From the glances the rest of the pack were giving me, I think I was supposed to understand what that meant.

“Use your words,” I commanded, sternly, but, I hoped, kindly. It would be hard to break the conditioning of however many years they were led.

“Food?”

“Food?” “Food?”

Apparently if one said a word, the rest decided they were the echo. Lovely. Maybe we could set it up like a form of echolocation. 

“We will look for food. But listen! If the Animal talks—if they use words at all—they may not be hurt, killed, or eaten. Is that clear?”

The Wolves all looked at each other, then back at me. 

They said nothing.

“Any questions? You _may_ speak.”

“No more eating friends?” a hopeful, female voice inquired from the back.

“No more eating friends, or _any_ Talking Beast.” I looked at them. “You’re all hungry?” The seven heads in front of me began nodding. “Okay, you,” I indicated the female who had spoken, “take two others and go hunt. _Do not kill any Animal that speaks_. You’ll obey?”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” She nudged the two closest to her and they sped off, noses already sniffing, and the rest began to wag their tails like dogs. 

“All right,” I said, looking at the rest. I kept my sword out—I didn’t think this was a trick, but if it was, I’d be sorry later if my sword was sheathed. “I’ve bandages in my pack. Let’s look at the wounded.”

The wounds weren’t too bad on that one paw, but it would make traveling slow. _If_ they behaved, I might ask for a Talking Horse to help us out, or borrow a dumb horse if there was one around. _If_ they behaved. 

But as the rest of the Wolves crowded round to see what I was doing, as they nosed their hurting brothers, I couldn’t help thinking they might actually be a good pack, if they had a good leader.

And that leader would have to teach them manners, honor, courage, honesty, nobility… pretty much everything.

Even how to treat Narnia itself as pack.

I was so not ready for this. I’d just adopted 13 Wolves.

Edmund was going to laugh himself sick.


	2. The Strength of the Wolf is the Pack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter does include the Wolves from my story Kidnapped. If you haven't read it (*spoilers*), Ren kidnapped Lucy and brought her to a Fell camp. The Fell camp was the only place the Wolf thought she could keep her three children safe. Lucy turned them back to Aslan's side, and her siblings came to rescue her. Energetic Rena and intellectual Socrates accepted Lucy right away, but hot-tempered Durai did not. He came around eventually.

The (comparatively) talkative female had not come back by the time I finished bandaging the Wolf’s paw. I stood and groaned under my breath. My body still ached from the four Wolves piling on me earlier.

A Wolf was instantly by my side, leaning into me; another slide into place on my other side. I blinked. “What are you doing?”

He ducked his head, baring his throat; the Wolf on my other side backed away instantly. “No, it’s fine, just—what was that?” The Wolf whined. “Use your words.”

“Leader is tired. We help.”

“Oh. Thank you. That’s—nice.” The Wolf pressed up against my side again, and the other Wolf followed his example.

“What’s your name?” I asked the first Wolf. If the others were following his lead, he was probably higher in the pack. He could be a help—or a challenger. 

Because  _ I was the Alpha of a pack of Wolves _ . Aslan, how did my life get so bizzare? 

Then again—would it be any stranger than become a King?

“Ralpfkortechen.”* I bit back a sigh. 

“I only caught the first part of that. May I call you Ralp?”

He lowered himself to the ground. I took that as a nonverbal yes. “All right, Ralp. How much food will the others bring back? Enough for everyone?” He shook his head, and I sighed. Of course not. “Right, then, my horse ran off when your pack attacked. There’s some food in the saddlebags; can you scent the general direction it went?”

Ralp raised his head and sniffed the air, and then began walking. I glanced back at the rest of the pack, not sure if I should leave them to run, or maim others. But I saw they were all settling around the wounded ones, as if glad for the rest. Still… 

They had responded well to commands so far, though. “Stay,” I said.

And I heard Ralp hit the forest floor, and I couldn’t help it, I sighed. “Not you, Ralp. The rest of you, stay here. Don’t attack any talking animal, and don’t attack anything that doesn’t attack you first.” A series of soft whimpers came from the pack, and I took that to be their agreement. “Let’s go, Ralp.” 

Ralp was a superb tracker, and my horse had not gone far. Since the horse had been around the Wolves at the Cair, it did not object to Wolves that didn’t attack it, and I caught the reins as it grazed with no trouble. From there it was easy to mount, and we turned back towards the pack. 

But halfway there, I heard a soft, constant noise, and I looked down and noticed Ralp panting. Though the Wolf made no complaint, and didn’t look up, or plead, or anything. I slowed my horse without a word. It wasn’t likely the old Alpha let them voice complaints. 

Once we were back, I opened the saddlebags, on the far side of the horse, just to be safe. I saved the berries and vegetables for myself (the Wolves at the Cair didn’t care for them), leaving them in the saddlebags, but I brought the rest out for the pack. (The three hunters weren’t back yet.) I set it down,and backed away; they looked far too hungry for it to be wise to stay between them and the food.

None of them moved. 

I glanced at the food, then back up. There didn’t seem to be anything wrong with it. Still, no one moved.

I looked around for Ralp. He hadn’t minded explaining anything so far. The Wolf sat to the side of the pack, his eyes fixed on the food, but his gaze snapped up when I cleared my throat.

“Why isn’t anyone eating?”

Everyone flinched. Of course they did, an Alpha’s displeasure wouldn’t have been followed by anything good. So I just sighed, sitting down. I hoped the human non-aggressive posture translated to a language they understood. “I’m not angry. Everyone is hungry; why isn’t anyone eating?” A pause. “Please answer.”

“Alpha first,” came the words, echoed by the rest. “Alpha first. Alpha first.”

“No, I’m not the one whose hungriest. Here, in my pack—in my castle—the ones who are the hungriest eat first. You wait, to make sure there’s enough for everyone, and you only take what is fair. So this food,” and I reached forward, beginning to tear the bear meat into portions, and aching a bit when the Wolves whimpered, “will be split between all of you. There, that’s thirteen portions, because we’re saving these three for the hunters. Now each of you come get  _ one _ . Don’t take anyone else’s.” The Wolves let out low, hopeful growls, and two of the youngest began creeping forward. Closer and closer they came, their nostrils flaring as they smelled the food. They darted forward, snatching up one portion each, and retreated to gulp it down.

“Well done,” I said, smiling. Positive reinforcement and all that. “Next?”

Four more crept forward, the rest of the near-cubs and someone I guessed to be their mother. Each took one portion, and each darted backwards as soon as they mouthed it, retreating into the safety of the pack. Three more came forward, and then there were only the three portions for the hunters, and Ralp’s. 

Ralp came forward, but did not touch the food, instead walking straight towards me. That could be dangerous; was he coming to challenge me? I rested my hand on my sword.

Ralp dropped to his belly, whining. 

“What is it?” I asked, softly, so he didn’t think I was angry. Just wary.

“Alpha eat,” Ralp sapid, his voice pleading. The Wolves behind him pricked up their heads, ceasing their chewing for a moment. “Alpha eat,” “Alpha eat,” came that soft chorus.

“Okay,” I said, after a moment. I hadn’t exactly expected any of them to imitate Susan so quickly. But I stood, and Ralp scurried backwards. Right, so human posture did matter. I quickly let go of my sword, turning to reach into the saddlebags. I brought out the bag of strawberries—hopefully uncrushed, I’d been looking forward to that morning—and I sat again. I began eating. Ralp watched, satisfied, then came and got his own portion. 

Unlike the others, Ralp stayed a little closer to me. And I smiled at him, a bit wearily. I was tired.

Oh,  _ how was I supposed to sleep? _ I didn’t trust them enough to be unconscious and undguarded, but I could hardly stay awake the entire way to Cair Paravel. 

Maybe I could sleep on top of the horse. It’d be harder to kill me without waking me that way. And if I woke I might have a better chance.

A problem for another day. Or when night came on. For right now the Wolves were grouping together, closing their eyes (some crossed their paws to rest their heads on), and a few chuffed out grunts I’d heard from the Cair pack when they were particularly happy. 

As the first day of being pack leader, I felt I was doing well. But I looked up sharply when I heard a noise near me.

Ralp was shuffling closer. I looked at him, restraining myself from reaching for my sword—I didn’t want him terrified of me, just scared enough he wouldn’t attack—and waited.

He shuffled, sideways, almost, till he was pressed against my side. Then he closed his eyes and went to sleep.

_ That was… a little like Edmund, when Edmund wants to take care of me but doesn’t want me objecting. _

_ Without the cringing, of course. _

I set my hand gingerly on his head and stroked, in the way Socrates liked. A happy snort sounded, and his entire body relaxed.

I stayed that way, stroking him, till the hunters came back.

They had an entire deer, but they were drooping, exhausted from the hunt and from dragging it back to the pack. I fed them, told them “Well done,” and sent them to sleep. They flopped near the edge of the pack and instantly fell asleep.

I fell asleep without meaning to. I woke the next morning when Ralp’s nose nudged me. I rolled away, eyes flying open to a bright, bright morning, and a Wolf crouching, head down, a few feet away.

I was proud of myself for not screaming, but I did gasp, and Ralp scurried backwards. 

“Sorry,” I gasped, rubbing my eyes and trying my best not to press on my heart. Showing weakness was  _ not _ a good idea.

And that was when I heard a deep sniff right behind me, and whirled to find another of the Wolves. A small, questioning whine broke from him.

“I’m fine.” I was. Sort of. “Just… Sons of Adam wake up differently than Wolves.” This seemed to satisfy him, and I sat back down. “What’s your name?”

“Deipneus.” 

The Alpha, the  _ former _ Alpha, must have liked weird, long names. “I’m calling you Dep,” I decided. “Did you need something?”

He glanced to the side, and I saw the deer carcase, brought by the hunting trio. 

“Sure. It’s a great time for breakfast. Let the hunters eat first—if they’re awake—but everyone gets equal shares. I’m going to go check on the wounded.” I heaved myself to my feet, moving towards the pile that was still mostly there. The Wolves rolled away before my feet, retreating to a full arm’s length away. Except for the wounded ones; they just waited, ears flat on their heads.

I knelt ( _ yes, Edmund, I still have my sword on, and I’m still ready to use it _ ), and checked the gashes I’d made with my sword. The Wolves held absolutely still as I felt around, as gently as I could, for heat, or bleeding; but there seemed to be neither, and I smiled. “I think you’ll be able to travel today.”

Their heads jerked up, ears perking, and they stared at me.

“They live too?” a voice behind me asked, and I turned to find the female who spoke the most. Her ears were all the way up as well, and her voice eager. “They live too?”

“They weren’t hurt badly enough they’ll… “ I trailed off as I realised that wasn’t what she meant. “I am  _ not  _ going to kill them.” 

Small sounds of relief sounded from every Wolf, and my stomach turned; I was glad I hadn’t eaten breakfast. Ralp came over and began licking the unbandaged wounds, helping them to heal. 

“Right, time for breakfast,” I said as briskly as I could, still trying to push down my twisting stomach. I turned to the talkative girl. “Please divide it up in equal portions, and I don’t need one.”

Breakfast went over quite well for everyone else. Afterwards I mounted and we started heading back towards Car Paravel, at a very slow pace. On the way there I told them all the stories I could remember about the Wolf pack who was already there, Ren and her three children. I told them how Lucy met Ren, and how the Wolves had needed to change, how their understanding of the world had been challenged by our court, but how they had grown.

I talked myself hoarse. None of the Wolves said a single word. They’d drifted closer to the horse at the more exciting points of the story, but not a single sound.

Durai loved howling. His mother used it to train him to restrain his anger, and to let it out at the right time and place, and harm no one. Rena never stopped talking. Socrates could speak for hours at a time, if someone asked about his most recent project or lesson.

Not a word from any of the Wolves. 

I missed my siblings. 

Dep and one of the younger cubs caught another deer, and we stopped to eat. I started a fire and roasted my portion of the meat, and three of the Wolves, after sniffing, dragged their own meat over and tried to do the same. I laughed and helped them; it was almost like helping the young at Cair Paravel.

But when we started again they fell back, leaving me to talk to them, and hope they were listening.

That night I sat against a tree, and called the Wolves near. They sat around me in a circle, and I looked around at each of their eyes. “Do you have any questions about where we’re going?” I asked in rasp. 

Not a Wolf moved. But my voice was giving out, and I wasn’t going to break the silence.

“We will sleep near you?” the girl asked. I pictured all the Wolves trying to cram themselves into my bedroom and felt my lips turn up. I shook my head.

“You’ll stay with the other Wolves.”

One of the younger ones, who had tried cooking his meat (and seemed to like it) asked, “Will you hunt? Will we hunt?”

“Some of you probably will; others will guard; others will clean; but at night, all of you will be together. But you  _ will not _ hunt the Animals who stay at Cair, nor any who talk. They will all be your friends. If you hunt them, hurt them, or eat them, you will be punished.” They crouched and whined.  _ Right, maybe not the best way to put it—but they did need to know _ . “But if you are their friends, they will help you. They will teach you, the way… “ I tried to think of an example, one they would know.

“Ralp helps. Ralp teaches,” the girl said, and I smiled at her. 

“Like Ralp, then.” I looked at him approvingly, and then back at the girl. “What’s your name?”

“Salsha.”

“I like how much you talk, Salsha.”

Her ears perked up, and her head came up. 

“I like talking.” That was another cub, and I realised the youngest would probably adjust to this best. “We can talk now?”

“You can talk whenever someone else is not talking,” I promised.

“Talking is good. So is sleep. Sleep now,” Ralp said, getting to his feet. He plopped by me again, and I hesitantly leaned into his warmth. All around us the Wolves closed their eyes.

_ Do I trust them enough to sleep? _

“I want to smell Ren,” Ralp said quietly. “I have… been Ren. Mother. To the pack.” 

“Do you want to be Alpha?” I asked, also quietly. 

“No. To fight and fight and fight is Alpha. I lick. I teach. I feed.”

I looked out at them, at the ones only a little less thin, and realised he’d probably kept them alive, when the Alpha rode them hard. “You did well,” I said, setting my hand on his head again. “I will help now. I promise.”

I fell asleep that way. 

The next morning we did not need to hunt—the Wolves had eaten as much as their bellies could manage, and we rode out early. The wounded were walking almost without limping, at the slow pace we took.

My throat still ached, so I didn’t say much. 

But half an hour into the walk, Salsha looked back at me. “You are tall.”

I looked down at her and smiled. She’d  _ said _ something. “I’m on a horse.” I had to force the words out of my throat, but she had wolf hearing, and she heard them. 

“Trees are tall. Dryads are tall. Stags are tall. Giants are tall.”

“Some Dryads aren’t tall.” That was one of the cubs, and I felt my smile get bigger.

“Young Dryads,” Ralp agreed. He looked up at me. “We can speak?”

“Speak,” I whispered. “Please speak.

And they did. Only half of the pack found their voices, but I watched as all their tails lowered and a few tongues lolled out. They were relaxed, happier than they were.

And some of them were speaking. 

**And then another of the females howled. Not in joy, or at beauty, but a full alarm, and instantly Ralp was shoving the cubs to the center of the circle, ringing the bandaged ones, Dep and Salsha were on the outskirts growling, and I rode forward, pulling my reins so I stood in front of them.

Ralp came up beside me, growling low in his throat and looking to the left.

We waited.

Wolf ears straightened, and then the pack bared their teeth. I drew my sword.

And Edmund rode into the clearing, at the end of a troop of soldiers.

Ralp crouched, but I sheathed my sword and snapped, “Stay still!”

He obeyed.

So did Edmund, who was staring at me, wide-eyed. 

I sorted out words in my head for a second. “I can explain.”

“You are unharmed, your Majesty?” That was Oreius, sharp-toned and quick. His eyes were already on the scratches on my armoured arm. 

“Yes, completely unharmed. Edmund, Oreius, Narnian soldiers, this is my new Wolf pack. Pack, this is my brother, Edmund. And Oreius, the Centaur. And Rena, Durai, and good, Ren, there you are. I’ve been wanting to speak with you.”

“About what, your Majesty?” Ren asked, and I winced at her polite, slightly mocking tone. I had no doubt she had seen the body language of the back, and guessed I was the Alpha.

“I… might have become the leader of this Wolf pack.”

“Alpha,” Ralp growled, eyes still on the armed troops. I bit back a sigh and swung myself off the horse, putting my hand on Ralp’s head while my other held the reins. 

“I fought their Alpha and won, and they became my pack.”

And… there was Edmund’s twitching mouth. But at least he kept in his laughter. For now. He swung himself off his horse and came forward, careful move slowly enough not to startle, but brisk enough it didn’t look fearful. “Why don’t you introduce us, then.”

“This is Ralp, this is Salsha, that’s Dep. I haven’t had time to learn all their names, I was a bit preoccupied with getting them back to the Cair. And to Ren. Ralp, this is Edmund, and when he speaks, he speaks with my authority.”

Ralp looked at Edmund, drawing in his scent. After a moment he bared his neck, submitting. 

“So does Oreius, but we can get to that later. Listen, pack, stay with Edmund,” Edmund’s eyes swung up to mine, slightly alarmed, and I grinned. See how  _ he _ liked being saddled with a pack! “...while I talk to Ren. Ren, if you please?”

No one said anything as Ren and I walked towards the edge of the clearing, but there she stopped and looked back. I did as well. The two groups were staring at each other, a bit uncomfortable; Oreius was gripping his sword. 

“Rena, Durai, go talk to them. Tell them about Cair Paravel, and what it’s like there,” Ren called.

Rena bounded forward instantly, sniffing Ralp from nose to tail. “I’m Rena! I’m the only girl, besides Mom, which doesn’t really count. I’m training to be a warrior! But Durai says I have a long way to go. He’s mean like that.” 

“Ralp,” the other Wolf responded.

Rena seemed to have him well in hand, and where he went, the pack would follow. Durai had followed his sister at a slower pace, taking in the condition and attitude of the Wolves with keen eyes. Edmund had begun talking with Salsha, who was sniffing my brother curiously. Ren and I left.

“Ren—”

“Not yet, your Majesty. Wolf ears may still hear us.”

I waited till she stopped, and sat with a sigh. My throat still hurt.

“I can’t  _ be _ an Alpha.” She waited. “I don’t have time! And I’m not even that good at it!”

“You do not have time, but you seemed to have held them together well enough.” 

“So how do I do this? How do I make you the Alpha?”

Ren waited for a few moments. “Your Majesty, I cannot  _ be _ the Alpha.”

I put my hand over my eyes. I hadn’t slept well in two nights, I’d fought a battle the day before that, against an entire pack of Wolves, and I’d been babysitting them since. Why couldn’t  _ one thing  _ be easy?

But Kings don’t get to complain.

“What do you recommend, then?”

“My son.”

I let my hand fall and looked at her. She looked back, quite calmly. “Your Majesty, I was the pack leader because I was the mother, but I am not an Alpha. I have no desire to fight, to lead, or to do anything but care for those I love. Durai, however, bears enough of his father’s blood he longs for that challenge. And he has learned to be steadier, calmer, and quieter, since the days when he fought each friend as a foe. He can become the Alpha.”

Well, that was good news. But… “How does he become the Alpha, exactly?” Because killing me really wasn’t an option. He’d be executed for treason and there wouldn’t  _ be _ an Alpha.

Unless I wanted to set that on Ed.

That almost sounded appealing.

Still, there were better options than us dying. There had to be.

“You name him the Alpha before the pack, and he must fight any challengers to prove his right.”

“Would he be willing?”

“Yes.”

I thought back over the past two days, remembering the care and weight of having so many lives. Their whimpers, their fear, their constant need of reassurance, and how I had needed to speak till my voice was gone. I also remembered the fight, the weight on my shield and the tearing at my armour. He might endure much the same, before being named Alpha. Could I wish that on anyone else? “You are  _ sure? _ ”

“My King, my son needs the challenge of a pack. By his teeth and size he is a leader; by his heart, he is fiercely loyal. The pack will be to him what Narnia is to you. But I will speak with him before you make the announcement, if it would ease your heart.”

I closed my eyes, feeling the sweet release of relief. “Thank you, Ren.”

“Of course, your Majesty.” A warmth nudged my side—funny, how easy it was to get used to that—and a warm head rested on my shoulder. Acting as I had seen Lucy do, I swung my arms up and hugged Ren’s neck, burying my head in her thick, thick fur, and breathing in. 

It felt like the sweetest promise of strength, safety, and love. Like I needn’t be a king, just for a moment; I could be a cub.

“Well done, your Majesty,” Ren whispered. “You brought them here safe, and we can help with the rest.”

I took one more second, one more second of letting my weight lean on her; then I pushed myself up. “Thank you, Ren.” 

She bowed, the Wolf bow of one leg drawn under her body and her head tilted forward to the ground. It was so different from the cringing submission of the pack; they had so much to learn. 

But the loyalty in it was precious. jI knew that she, with her son, and her other children, could teach that to the pack, and could give them a home through that loyalty. I got to my feet, and we made our way back. 

I made my way to Edmund, and pulled him into a hug. He’d been talking to the Cubs, showing them (with Rena’s help) one of the games the Squirrels had taught the Wolves when they first moved to Cair, where one Squirrel hides, and whoever finds him has to hide with him, and the hiding place gets more and more absurd, till the others can find the hiders through the giggles alone. 

Ralp was watching them, and he was smiling, mouth open, tongue lolling, and chuckles coming from his belly. I wondered how long it had been since he had watched the weak and been able to laugh, instead of worrying. 

I glanced over at Ren, who had been speaking in a low voice to Durai, and she looked back and me and nodded.

I took my arm off Ed’s shoulder, and he moved to flank me. I had  _ really _ missed him, and that automatic support.

I cleared my throat. “Wolves,” I began.

But my voice was still closer to a whisper than a roar, and only half of them heard me. “Wolves!” Edmund called, loud and clear, at the same time Ralp growled, sharp and impatient. The Wolves looked to him, and he turned to look at me, and they hastily followed, coming back to sit before me. 

“I am not a Wolf, I am a King, and I am not able to be a good Alpha.” The entire pack crouched, whining; several of them began trembling. “I’m sorry. I will still be your King, and you can still talk to me. But you need a new Alpha. Durai will be your new Alpha.”

Durai walked forward. 

“No,” Ralp growled. 

“Yes,” I said, as gently as I could. 

“No!” But he checked himself, crawling backwards, sending glances at me as he cringed. 

I stepped forward, resting my hand on his head again. “I am not a Wolf,” I said, as gently as I could. “I have too many things to do. But Durai will teach you to talk, and the young ones to hunt, and Ren, Rena, and Socrates will join your pack.” 

Ralp looked over at Rena, who grinned at him. 

“The Alpha must prove himself,” Ralp said. He walked out from under my hand, towards Durai. “I challenge you.” 

“Ralp-”

“Let him,” Ren instructed from behind me. She came and nudged my hand. “It is the way of the pack.”

I hated it, but I stepped back, Edmund taking my arm. Durai growled, and the two Wolves began to circle each other.

It was a short fight. Ralp fought with everything he had, but Durai was larger, well-fed, and had been trained with soldiers, and the fight ended with Durai’s claw pressing on Ralp’s neck. 

“Do you yield?” Durai growled. He was not even panting.

Ralp cringed, whining. Durai pressed harder, and I stepped forward, calling, “That means yes! They don’t speak, Durai—they weren’t allowed to speak. That means yes!”

Durai looked down. “Speak it, Wolf. Do you yield?”

“Yes,” Ralp panted, and Durai took his paw off, stepping back.

Ralp heaved a few breaths, his sides rising and falling, and raised his head to look at Durai, though he did not move from his side. “You are not executing me?”

“No.”

Ralp pondered that for a moment. “You, a Wolf, do not kill the ones that challenge you?”

“Not unless they break the laws of Narnia in ways of violence, greed, or cruelty,” Durai answered, his eyes still on Ralp. “You may get up.”

Ralp rolled to his feet. He stared at Durai for a moment longer, then lowered his head. “If others challenge you, you will not kill them?”

“I will not.”

Ralp looked at me, and I nodded. He turned to look at the pack. “Fala, Drocameinus, and Tereth. You challenge him. Fala first.” Two of the Wolves came forward slowly, but the third—the youngest Cub—cringed and whined. “You will challenge, and challenge now, not later, when you think him soft. Come!”

There were three more short fights, but they didn’t bother me as much. I trust Ralp to know his own, and for this to be a help to Durai. 

And afterwards, Durai left Rena and the soldiers with the pack, while Durai, Ren, and Dep went hunting, to bring back food for the hungry Wolves. I noticed Rena settling down by Ralp and licking his neck, where he’d had Durai’s claws pressed to it, and grinned.

“Happy with your pack, Alpha?” Edmund murmured beside me, and I shushed him.

“Wolf hearing! You’ll confuse them!”

“Right. But don’t think I’m done.”

“Shhh! They’re coming closer!”

Salsha was, indeed, coming closer, with one of the other Wolves. She dropped a bit of meat from the campfire at my feet, and the Wolf did the same for Edmund. I picked it up, groaning inside. They  _ still _ were making sure I ate, apparently, Alpha or not.

Edmund picked his up, looking at the Wolf. “What’s this for?”

“Alpha’s pack. You eat.” Edmund looked over at me and I shrugged.

“They won’t eat if we don’t.” I brushed as much of the dirt off as I could, and took a bite. 

“We already have Susan,” Edmund muttered rebelliously, but took a bite of his own. I smiled around the dirt I could feel on my teeth, happy to know that at least Edmund had to suffer this with me too.

And he wouldn’t be so ready to laugh if he’d been adopted by the pack as well.

Which left Susan, and Lucy—Lucy would be thrilled. 

A whole pack, living at Cair Paravel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I typed and something happened. I am not to blame for that name. … okay, maybe I am, but I really wasn’t expecting it. 
> 
> **Kudos to trustingHIm17, who suggested writing a bit of the journey back; I might have just skipped to the Cair without her.


End file.
